


What Happens Under The Mistletoe

by CommunionNimrod



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Christmas, Fluff and Smut, Hanukkah, M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommunionNimrod/pseuds/CommunionNimrod
Summary: Newt is ready. Cookies have been baked (and NOT burned!), an assortment of pampering spa-like items have been set up in the bathroom, and his pièce de résistance has been hung up in the doorframe of where the main hall goes into the kitchen. Here, Newt waits, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the wall.It’s been almost a year since the Breach was closed and they saved the world. Life starts to return to some kind of normality, and with the holidays upon them, Newt has realized with intense excitement that he and Hermann have the chance to celebrate together, and celebrate properly. And damnit, he's gonna rock Hermann's holiday world.





	What Happens Under The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nighthawkms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighthawkms/gifts).



> This is my fic gift to nighthawkms from a fun Secret Santa thing that we signed up for!! I couldn't resist posting it a few days early, lol. I hope you like it, Jay! :D
> 
> Happy holidays everyone <3

It’s been almost a year since the Breach was closed and they saved the world. A whole year spent in relative peace. Newt has almost forgotten what that feels like. For so many years he’s been focused on the kaiju, moving from Shatterdome to Shatterdome, and living life in a series of events leading up to each new attack. Their lives  _ were _ the PPDC, they all lived and breathed it, and there was little else, really. Jaegers, kaiju, Hermann, sleepless nights, reset the clock, dissection, Hermann, going until you pass out where you stand, surrounded by metal walls and metal floors, Hermann, attempting to learn foreign languages for the rare times he went outside the Shatterdome walls and failing rather horribly at it (PhDs apparently don’t help in retaining weird ass languages one tries to learn when you’re in your thirties), etcetera and so on and so forth. For  **years** .

All of that has changed now. Well, all of it except for Hermann. Hermann’s still there. Hermann will  _ always _ be there. It makes him fucking giddy.

The question then becomes: What’s Next? Well, next there’s the after party. Next there’s confessions between long-time lab partners and furious making out and grabbing at each other ( _ holy shit finally _ ). Next there’s cataloguing and completing research so they can shut down the lab for good. Next there’s applying for jobs, and figuring out where the fuck to live. Next, there’s magazine interviews and a brief news outlet tour, which is brilliant and hilarious to watch Hermann try and navigate; Newt helps, though, he’s not cruel. Next, there’s … well, whatever they want.

The world is their oyster, opportunities are being handed at both him and Hermann on silver platters, and whatever other cheesy ass phrases you can think of. They’re drift partners and hopelessly in love, but Newt is still terrified when he asks Hermann to move in with him. He doesn’t even have a place when he asks, but that’s a minor detail. He’s terrified because what if, when the world-saving adrenaline dies down and the whirlwind passes, in the wake and reflection of their new link they found in the Drift, what if that’s all it is and Hermann wants to do his own thing? Newt’s prepared to face the music, he handles rejection well generally, but the thought of this particular one makes it feel like his lungs are collapsing.

The fears are unfounded, though, because of course Hermann is on the exact same wavelength. Hermann, who has job offers sitting in his email to return to London or Germany and has considered none of them because most of Newt’s job offers so far have been from America and Hong Kong.

Love is so fucking cool, dude.

They become a package deal after that, as if years of shouting at each other in a lab taught them nothing. Neither one of them considers a job offer if one isn’t extended to them both. Newt wants to marry Hermann right there on the spot if he’s honest with himself. Luckily that train of thought doesn’t quite burst through his mental filter. He does have one, after all, regardless of what Hermann likes to say. Thankfully though, the two of them are quite a hot commodity (ya know, saving the world and all that), and it’s easy enough for them to find a place that wants them both and almost meets their terms and requirements for a job and a place to live.

“Oh my god, dude,” Newt exclaims one evening as they’re curled up on the couch together, grading papers and preparing for winter break. They have survived their first semester as collegiate professors with relative ease: Newt falling back into the role like riding a bicycle and Hermann conquering having to teach young and eager-to-learn minds like a champ.

“Hmm?” Hermann hums, glancing over at Newt. He always peers at Newt over the rim of his glasses when this particular kind of curiosity hits, and it’s so adorable. Newt wants to kiss him.

“I just realized,” Newt continues, practically tossing his laptop aside and making Hermann jump nervously when it looks like it’s about to go crashing to the ground. It doesn’t, of course it doesn’t, and Newt beams over at his partner. “I  **just** realized.”

“ _ What _ ?” Hermann asks, setting his pen down, his brow furrowing slightly.

“It’s time for the holidays, babe.” Newt is practically vibrating with excitement. There’s a brief pause as Hermann levels a look at him like he’s just said the sky is blue. Normally this look irritates Newt, but he’s too thrilled to care.

“Yes, that normally comes with the month of December,” Hermann says, arching an eyebrow. Newt does reach over to shove his shoulder then.

“Oh shut up,” he huffs. Hermann actually smirks, the bastard. “What I mean is, it’s time to like … celebrate. No war, no impending doom stress, just regular lives and regular life stuff. Like parties. And presents. And so much food.”

“We all celebrated perfectly fine at the Shatterdome, it’s not as though being with the PPDC stole the holidays away from us.”

“Those parties were nice, sure, but could you ever say that we were truly celebrating, Herms?” Newt asks. “I mean, yeah there was … some food? But it wasn’t much different than the daily stuff. Plus, increased supplies of alcohol and music playing while people tried to ignore their stress and responsibilities in the face of constant fear of failure and death is NOT celebrating the holidays. It was lame.”

“It was not lame, Newton, everyone was doing the best they could-” Hermann starts, shifting slightly on the couch and taking advantage of Newt’s now empty lap to carefully stretch his legs out across it.

“It was so lame,” Newt interrupts. “You don’t have to defend it, babe. They were the lamest.”

Instinctively, his hand goes to Hermann’s leg, and he begins to gently massage the area under his bony knee and moving up his thigh, over the tense muscles and the decades-old scars hidden underneath his pajama pants. Hermann sighs softly at the relief it gives him, and Newt smiles.

“I recall you having quite a lot of fun at some of them,” Hermann mumbles, humming and grunting and making all those tiny little involuntary noises he makes when Newt gives him any kind of massage. They’re borderline sexual sounding, and if he was a man with less self control it would drive Newt crazy, but he knows when to tamper down those urges and focus on just taking care of Hermann.

“Doesn’t negate their lameness,” he says. Hermann snorts and shakes his head.

“Whatever you say, darling.”

Now that the realization has settled in, Newt’s mind goes into overdrive. Their first holiday season together! He can’t resist pulling out all the stops. They can celebrate properly. They can do so much, Newt wants to recapture that magic that his dad and uncle always used to do every year.

“God Herms we’ve got so much to do,” Newt says, staring off at the wall as he’s thinking. 

“Well, Hanukkah does start in a few days,” Hermann points out, reaching over to take a hold of Newt’s hand and thread their fingers together. “It has been a long time since I celebrated it properly, my family stopped participating once we were all hitting our teenage years due to scheduling and, well, tenser times. But ...”

Newt knows that Hermann doesn’t actively practice anymore; it’s something they had briefly discussed years ago in their letters to one another. Plus, working in a lab with the man for years made it easy to see as well. Hermann has always had a unwavering grasp on his faith, even in the face of monsters and other words and possible death (a time where Newt saw a lot of people struggle with their respective faith), but he never really went further than that inward thought and belief. Not that Newt’s known, anyway, and he  _ has _ been in the other man’s head now, so. Newt squeezes Hermann’s hand gently.

“Let’s get a menorah then!” he suggests, glancing back over at Hermann now. He is rewarded with that soft, almost shy smile that is reserved for him and him alone.

“I think I’d like that,” Hermann admits with a nod.

“Perfect,” Newt grins. “But we’re gonna do so much more, too. My dad always had us learn and celebrate all sorts of traditions, because he felt like they were all important to know and understand. We’re totally gonna dive into that. I have so many fun things to show you! We’ve got some of the traditional Christian Christmas stuff, we should get  _ stockings _ . And, uh, we can place shoes by the window, and dude we absolutely gotta hide our broom, and then there’s-”

“Newton!” Hermann laughs, tugging on his arm to get his attention. Newt is snapped out of his excited rambling, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly. He blinks.

“Yeah?”

“Slow down,” Hermann says affectionately. “I haven’t been living under a rock, darling, I am aware of the various kinds of holiday traditions different countries and religions have. You certainly don’t need to take me on a complete world tour this very first year. We have  _ time _ , now. We have all the time in the world.”

Newt swallows, licking his lips and exhaling shakily at that statement. That simple, wonderful statement: we have all the time in the world. They really do, don’t they? The world isn’t ending. They’re together. Newt feels his heart pounding at the unspoken promise hidden underneath those words. Is he thinking too much into it? Probably. Maybe? Hopefully not.

“Yeah, well, get ready to have your holiday world rocked anyway,” Newt beams. Hermann just huffs in amusement and shakes his head, but he’s smiling softly and god, Newt loves him.

 

* * *

 

For being a guy that doesn’t actively practice in his faith much anymore, Hermann gets real into Hanukkah once it starts. Newt wonders if it was just the stress and world-ending terror surrounding them for all those years that squashed things, as opposed to a personal choice. He kinda wants to ask Hermann about it, but something stops him. They’ll have that discussion at some point, though, he’s sure. It’s nice, though, getting back in touch with the Jewish heritage in his family.

When Newt was younger it was easier to get excited about the “commercial Christmas”, naturally. Plus, his endless curiosity and search for knowledge made him get quickly obsessed with the other traditions his dad would have them learn about. Hanukkah, however, was more of a sober and respectful tradition. Looking back, Newt knows the reason for that was because of his mother, and the painful connotations that linked her to the Geiszler family. They never turned away from that strong religious tie in their family, though, and always took the time to celebrate in their own way.

Hanukkah with Hermann, though? Hanukkah with Hermann is incredible. They spend an hour in comfortable, respectful silence as they light the menorah each night, embracing one another as Hermann recites the blessings he still seems to remember, regardless of the years that have passed. They exchange little presents each night too; Newt gets Hermann a mug that says “I (x^2+y^2-1)^3-x^2y^3=0 My Husband”, a framed poster that has the formula of PI written out in the shape of an actual pie, a frog-shaped tea infuser, and a pack of outrageously eccentric socks (just to name a few). On the flip side, some of the things Hermann gets  _ him _ includes a vintage chemistry set kit, a pack of notebooks that have intricate cellular biology, paleontology, and marine biology diagrams and illustrations on the covers, and multiple Godzilla toy blind bags.

Newt discovers that Hermann knows how to make the  _ fucking best _ latkes and sufganiyot. He also discovers that Hermann is stupid competitive (and stupid good) at playing Dreidel. Newt honestly swears that he cheats. It’s the only explanation, which is something he insists when he loses all of his chocolate three times in a row.

“You can’t cheat at Dreidel, Newton, it’s a game of chance,” Hermann sighs as he unwraps a piece of chocolate (a piece that  _ should _ be Newt’s, but nooooo).

“No, you’re absolutely cheating somehow,” Newt insists, crossing his arms and huffing. He glares at Hermann, even though the look has no actual heat behind it. “You’ve got some weird math tricks in your brain and you can like … calculate the weight and spin of the damn thing or something and know exactly what side it’s gonna fall on.”

“I assure you, I cannot.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you want some chocolate, darling?” Hermann asks after a moment of silence. It’s a perfectly innocent question, really it is, but Newt doesn't trust it for a second.

“Don’t you go distracting me with delicious bribes,” he huffs, jabbing a finger in Hermann’s direction accusingly. “I won’t fall for it.”

He falls for it.

 

* * *

 

Newt gets them stockings with big N and H letters embroidered across the front of them. They don’t have a fireplace, so he hangs them on the front of their bedroom door instead. He wants to get them a huge real tree to stick in a corner and decorate but Hermann draws the line at that, so they compromise for now and get a 3-foot fake tree instead. This goes in the kitchen, and is sparsely decorated. It’s a little sad and empty-looking, and Newt wants desperately to fill it up completely right away, but part of the fun is collecting ornaments over the years so he sticks to only getting three or four for them to start. 

Newt insists he’s going to drag Hermann out to experience Christmas caroling one evening, and his partner vehemently refuses every time it is brought up. Newt is teasing, mostly, but he apparently takes the joke too far as he tries tugging Hermann for the door and is rewarded with a smack to the shins with Hermann’s cane.

After that, however, things kind of die down. Partially it’s because Newt is trying to keep in mind what Hermann said earlier in the month - they have plenty of time. Partially, though, they just start to get super busy. As the second half of December comes around, they have to start preparing the house for two major events: a holiday party they somehow drew the short straw to host for everyone nearby who worked with them in the PPDC (which is  _ surprisingly _ a lot, considering they’re a long way away from Hong Kong now), and Hermann’s siblings Karla and Dietrich who have decided to travel to America and spend a week with their little brother and his boyfriend they’ve been apparently dying to meet.

The latter of the two has been stressing Hermann out for three days now. Newt’s just thrilled to finally meet some more Gottliebs. Neither one of them are what one would consider good at hosting, so that aspect only stresses Hermann out even more. Hermann, who is currently not home, having realized things they were missing for the guest room in order for people to, you know, sleep in. He was a whirlwind of cursing in both English and German, ignored Newt’s very considerate offer to run the errand himself, and out the door he went.

This suits Newt just fine, though, since he finally has the chance to enact his own plan and preparations.

An hour later, and Newt is ready. Cookies have been baked (and NOT burned!), an assortment of pampering spa-like items have been set up in the bathroom, and his pièce de résistance has been hung up in the doorframe of where the main hall goes into the kitchen. Here, Newt waits, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the wall.

Newt absolutely would’ve stood there for as long as it took, he knows he’s ridiculous like that (ridiculous or dedicated?), but he doesn’t need to. Thankfully, it’s not long before he hears Hermann opening the front door and coming inside with a heavy sigh. Newt grins, resisting the urge to peek around the corner, waiting instead until Hermann comes into view.

“Newton?” Hermann asks, confusion flashing across his face as he turns and sees Newt just standing there. He blinks, tilting his head and glancing into the kitchen. “Did you bake cookies?”

“That’s not all I did babe,” Newt beams. He lets his arms fall to his side as he pushes off the wall and eyes Hermann suggestively. Then, he points up.

“What…” Hermann starts, looking up at whatever Newt is gesturing at. “What is that?”

“Dude, I thought you told me you haven’t been living under a rock,” Newt teases, stepping closer and reaching out to take the bags from Hermann’s hands. He turns and sets them down on the floor, behind him and out of the way.

“I  _ haven’t _ ,” Hermann huffs in irritation, looking back at Newt to glare at him.

“So you’re telling me you don’t recognize that there’s mistletoe hanging above us?” Newt grins, stepping close again. Hermann blinks, realization dawning on his face as Newt reaches out and puts hands on his slender hips.

“Oh,” Hermann says softly, lips parting as he glances back up at the mistletoe again.

“You know what that means, right?” Newt whispers, leaning in and rubbing his nose against Hermann’s neck.

“I-I am aware of the conventional expectation,” Hermann stammers, letting out a soft gasp as Newt starts kissing his neck. His skin is chilled from being outside, and Newt plans to do something about that.  
  
“Well then, you shouldn’t keep a guy waiting, right?” Newt grins, straightening again.

Hermann looks at him, his cheeks a soft glowing red from being outside. Newt grins, squeezing Hermann’s hips gently and letting his weight rock from one side to the other a bit. What is probably just seconds feels like ages before Hermann is closing the distance between them and practically slamming their lips together.

Newt lets out a muffled noise of surprise at the immediate intensity of the kiss, tightening his grip on Hermann and tugging him flush against his body. Hermann’s hands are on his cheeks, his fingers cold but his palms warm, and they tremble as they move to up into his hair and around to the back of his neck.

“I know you’ve been … been stressed … and it’s been a little while since we …” Newt is trying to say in between kisses, each one quickly getting more heated than the one before. They both takes a few steps, stumbling against one another much like they did the very first time they kissed - caked with dirt and sweat and high on adrenaline from drifting and saving the world - until Newt’s back is hitting the wall again. He grunts at the force behind it, only barely registering the sound of Hermann’s cane clattering to the floor and having enough time to readjust his hold to help support Hermann better before things risk taking a turn for the worse.

Honestly, Newt wasn’t planning on getting frisky with Hermann right here in the hallway. He was going to wait until he could coax Hermann into the bathroom, at least. Draw up a bubble bath, let Hermann put on one of those face mask things he likes so much, and relax in the warmth and good smells to let some of his stress melt away. THEN Newt was gonna, you know … offer to join him … maybe help distract him … see where things went from there.

The bath is still gonna be a nice treat, no question, but clearly they didn’t need to take things that far. Either they’re having one of their awesomely weird, still-occasionally-occurring Drift links, or Hermann’s time to himself just had him thinking as well. Hermann’s hands are all over him, neck to hair to face to waist, while Newt keeps his own firmly in one place. It’s only when those wonderful, still kinda cold hands push up under his shirt that Newt gasps and shivers. He breaks the kiss with a groan and quickly pushes Hermann’s stupid large coat off his shoulders. It hits the floor with a soft  _ thump _ .

“Newton, we don’t have time,” Hermann is muttering, even as his hands betray him and hike up Newt’s t-shirt.

“We so do,” Newt shoots back, releasing Hermann long enough to let his shirt get yanked off his body and tossed carelessly to the side. Then Herman is back against him, kissing him hungrily. “ _ God _ , yes we do.”

Since realizing everything they need to do to get ready for the various upcoming events, the two of them haven’t had time for each other, really. Not in an intimate way, at least. It’s been over a week since they’ve done anything sexual together, and it’s totally fine. It’s not uncommon for them to have periods of time where they don’t engage with each other in that way, and it’s just a normal part of their lives. But here’s the thing about orgasms: they’re hella great stress relief. That’s something that his dear Hermann needs in spades right now. And Newt? Newt is happy as fuck to oblige.

Hermann breaks the kiss in order to move down, kissing along Newt’s jaw and neck sloppily. Newt takes this moment to start working on the buttons of Hermann’s vest and shirt, resisting the urge to yank the damn clothing open and let buttons pop and fly everywhere. That would kill the mood real quick. His brow furrows in concentration as trembling hands work on the last two buttons, when he feels a sharp pain near his collarbone that has him squeaking and moaning.

“ _ Fuck,  _ Hermann,” he gasps, his head falling back hard against the wall as Hermann sucks a generous hickey into his skin. “Jesus dude, were you-”

“Thinking that I needed to come and realizing that we haven’t had sex long enough that the thought left me wanting?” Hermann interrupts, licking at the throbbing spot of skin he’d just turned a pleasant dark red color. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m gonna fuck you,” Newt growls, tugging at Hermann’s clothing as they come back together for another heated kiss.

It’s a flurry of hands as they grab at one another, giving up halfway through and not bothering to get each other completely naked. Newt knows, in the back of his mind, that it would be better for them to move things to the bedroom and do this properly, but that part of his mind is overshadowed by Hermann shoving a hand down his pants and wrapping his fingers around Newt’s aching, already leaking cock. He’s mindful of their movements enough to make sure that there is no risk of unwelcome pressure or pain on Hermann’s bad leg as they get to the floor, of course. Hermann’s on his back, white undershirt still on but hiked up to his nipples, pants and boxers tugged down to his shins, and his erection is already standing proud and wanting. Newt, whose own pants are down to his ankles as well, ducks under and in between Hermann’s legs without hesitation.

It’s clumsy and rushed, and Hermann is laughing when Newt gets tangled up in his pants as he tries getting those glorious, long legs up to rest against his chest and shoulders, and calling him ridiculous when he pulls out the packet of lube from his back pocket. Newt just shrugs and grins, ignoring the lube that drips to the floor under them as he prepares Hermann. How can he care about their floor when his fingers are inside of Hermann, and he’s is making such beautiful, needy noises?  His glasses slip and his vision blurs for a few moments, until Newt finally has enough thought to turn his head and push them back up with his shoulder.

“Newton, please,” Hermann begs, panting and writing under his touch, his own erection bumping against his stomach, where pre-come smears near his bellybutton. His pale chest is blotchy and red, something that tends to happen with he’s super aroused, and Newt wants to kiss and taste him all over. Maybe later, though, because their current position doesn’t quite allow for it.

Hermann gets mouthy when he bottoms, and Newt fucking loves it. It made him do a double take the first time it happened, and sometimes it still catches him off guard. But Newt’s brain is singular and focused in this point at time, registering Hermann’s demanding and whining words long enough to oblige with the requests. His cock twitches eagerly at the desperate moan Hermann makes when Newt pulls his fingers out, briefly mourning the loss of being so wonderfully filled, so he makes quick work of slicking himself up and getting into position. His head nudges against Hermann’s warm opening, a silent request as they both breathe heavily.

They look at one another as Hermann’s hips twitch, and Newt bites his lip as he pushes inside. It makes him dizzy, this sensation. Hermann is so tight and warm and welcoming, and Newt is addicted to it. It’s something that surprises him, since personally he enjoys being the one that’s getting fucked more than the other way around. In this however, like most things where his long-time companion and colleague is concerned, Hermann continues to surprise him.

Newt keeps his hands on Hermann’s hips as he thrusts into him, setting a good pace quickly. They have to pause and adjust a few times, Newt stilling but never pulling out, when his knees start to feel a bit numb or when Hermann’s leg starts to cramp. When Hermann demands him to go harder, faster,  _ more Newton please _ , Newt groans through clenched teeth and slides his hands around Hermann’s waist so he can move back and get a good grasp of that bony, adorable ass. He yanks Hermann up a little, pulling him up at an angle off the floor, and thrusts in roughly. He’s able to get in deeper this way, and Hermann curls his good leg tighter around Newt’s shoulders and neck to stabilize himself. It’s obvious when Newt finally drives home and hits Hermann’s prostate, with the way he flings a hand out to smack the floor and cries out hoarsely. He tightens around Newt, who swears his vision starts going white.

“Ooohh Hermann,” Newt wheezes, gripping the man’s ass so tightly he’s probably leaving fingernail marks in his skin. “H-hermann,  _ shit _ .”

“Don’t stop,” Hermann gasps. Trembling, he pulls his hand back to his chest and drags it down his stomach, until he wraps his long fingers around himself and begins to stroke.

Newt shudders at the sight of it, and he’s torn between watching Hermann jack himself off or watching his face as he does. He ends up trying to compromise the best he can, narrowing in on Hermann’s hand on his dick until it becomes obvious he’s about to come. Newt groans as Hermann’s orgasm hits, seeing as he stripes his stomach and clenches around Newt. Newt’s own orgasm follows a few seconds after, just as Hermann is becoming too over sensitive to handle his thrusts. After a moment of trying to detangle themselves, he collapses on the floor next to Hermann, panting harshly.

Hermann brings one of his arms to rest over his forehead. Neither of them speak for a moment, and when Newt turns his head to look over, Hermann is staring up at the ceiling. Newt follows his gaze, noticing that he’s looking at the mistletoe.

“I don’t believe,” Hermann finally speaks, still panting softly. “I don’t believe  _ that _ is part of the tradition.”

Newt lets out a high-pitched, almost delirious laugh at that. Biting his lip, he rolls onto his side and buries his face in Hermann’s shoulder, body shaking as he continues to laugh.

“No, it’s totally not dude,” he confirms. Lifting his head, Newt sets his chin on Hermann’s shoulder and gazes over at him. 

Hermann is the picture of lovely right now. Sure, his face and neck are still red, and his hair is a little messy from where he was apparently grabbing at it some while they were having sex. His undershirt is twisted all sorts of weird ways, there’s come drying on his stomach, and his now flaccid dick has slumped to one side and rests against his hip. He’s beautiful. Newt wishes he could take a picture so he could capture this moment of pure, relaxed bliss radiating from his partner right now. He just … he just wants to …

“Marry me,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Finally, that filter has failed him. Well, it was bound to happen one day.

Hermann’s head snaps to the side so they he can look at Newt. Newt who, inwardly, starts panicking almost immediately, because WHAT THE FUCK NEWT YOU IDIOT. His heart starts pounding fast, and the seconds tick by as Hermann stares at him. Those dark eyes, framed by the most beautiful eyelashes Newt has ever seen on a guy, are searching his face. Finally, Newt allows his nervousness to slip through by biting his lip.

“I mean, ah …” he starts, pulling back and pushing himself up on his elbow. With his other hand, he rubs the back of his head. “Wow, I-”

“Newton,” Hermann says. His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and Newt couldn’t make himself keep talking even if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Y-yeah?” he finally lets himself ask, after Hermann doesn’t immediately continue.

“Are you serious?”

Something about that question erases Newt’s panic immediately. Frowning, he sits up completely, tugging his pants all the way off so he can cross his legs. Hermann finally moves too, joining him in a sitting position with his legs stretched out in front of him. Newt doesn’t miss the way he winces as he does this, and it’s clear that he can’t stay on the floor for much longer. They shouldn’t have done this on the floor to begin with. Newt hopes Hermann won’t be in too much pain later.

“Absolutely,” he nods, reaching over and taking Hermann’s hand. “This isn’t … I mean, hopefully you know this is not even remotely the way I would have done this. But I’m not taking it back. Doctor Hermann Gottlieb, I have legit wanted to marry you since the moment we drifted at the beginning of the year. I might have even dreamt about it before then. I’m amazed you didn’t see it in the Drift, honestly. If I’d had a choice I’d probably have taken you to a planetarium, or the park, or a nice romantic dinner to ask you this. I definitely didn’t picture asking you while we’re both just … hanging all out like this.”

Newt gestures to their bits and naked lower halves when he says this. Hermann snorts, belting out a loud peal of laughter that Newt can’t help but join in on.

“Maybe we’ll leave that detail out of the story when people ask, as they inevitably will,” Hermann grins.

“Yeah, maybe,” Newt laughs, not catching on. But then he sees the way Hermann is looking at him, and it all clicks into place. “Oh. Oh, so that’s … that’s a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes, you daft man,” Hermann nods. Smiling as brightly as Newt has ever seen, he tugs Newt in to kiss him slowly. Newt returns the kiss without hesitation, tempted to pull Hermann into his lap if it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Awesome,” Newt whispers against Hermann’s lips. “Fucking awesome. God, I love you. I can’t wait to marry you. Oh my god we’re gonna get married.”

Newt laughs, and Hermann kisses him again. They kiss until they shouldn’t anymore, until it’s clear that Hermann is starting to get uncomfortable where he is. Newt pulls back, running his fingers through Hermann’s hair and rubbing the fuzzy undercut lovingly.

“Here, let me … let me help,” he prompts, standing. Then, he reaches out and carefully helps Hermann up too. Hermann clings to his shoulder until Newt wraps an arm around his waist and holds him close.

“Step out of your pants,” Newt instructs softly. Hermann gives him a pointed look, as if to say he wasn’t already going to do that. “There was a part two of this surprise plan I had, and that’s where I was gonna seduce you, but oh well, plans change huh?”

“They do,” Hermann nods, leaning heavily against Newt as they walk. He grunts after a few steps and sighs. “Why did we just have sex on the floor? This was not one of our finest ideas.”

“Listen,  _ you _ jumped me dude, I can’t be held responsible for that,” Newt defends. Hermann just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Hey, come on, I’m gonna make it up to you. Plan two involves bubbles. And that weird face shit you love so much. I gotta take care of my fiance, after all.”

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that …”

“Sure, but I like the sound of husband even better.”

“Well, we’ll work up to that, won’t we?” Hermann asks, leaning close. Newt stops them walking to kiss the taller man again.

“Damn straight we will.”


End file.
